


The Bond

by Petiteberry



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Consensual Underage Sex, Cruel Fleur, F/F, Fleur G!P, Soulmates, soulbond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:00:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29066229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petiteberry/pseuds/Petiteberry
Summary: Hermione's life is completely changed when Fleur tells her they are soulmates but the blonde refuses to accept the bond between them. This is a story about their journey, how they keep finding each other through the years, and how Fleur discovers if she can resist the pull towards Hermione forever.
Relationships: Fleur Delacour/Hermione Granger
Comments: 23
Kudos: 251





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rice_and_beans](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rice_and_beans/gifts).



> Hello! This is my first time writing in years, I feel like it could be a PWP story but I believe there's a subtle plot somewhere. Not going to be a long one, 3 chapters - 4 chapters tops. I'm finishing the second one and it'd probably be ready for next week. Last but not least I wanna thank my friend Rice_and_Beans for encouraging me to dare and post this work. This is for you, Rice!

**FALL 1994**

Hermione wasn’t completely sure what was happening. She was finishing the advanced transfiguration paper due tomorrow in the library when suddenly a gust of silverly blonde hair and deep blue eyes came into view. The girl seized her arm, picked her up from her favorite armchair and brought her to the furthest corner of the room.

“... bonded. I mean, you... I… Merlin!... Both, we’re both bonded.”

Hermione just kept giving her a puzzled look, head tilted to the side, trying to understand what this girl was telling her.

“It’s most definitely not what you’re thinking,” the blonde rambled.

Well, she was thinking nothing, and this was obviously far from being nothing, so...

“You are terribly young and it's not like we don’t have a choice in the matter,” she huffed and ran a hand through her hair. “What I’m just trying to say is that the fact that we’ve bonded doesn’t mean we have to spend the rest of our lives together.”

This is where she had to interrupt, because, a: She was 15 years old, not much younger than she and, b: Spend their lives together? What?

“Ok, so, Fleur. Fleur, right? I’m trying to understand here, we have barely exchanged a couple of words, one of them being ‘bouillabaisse,’ by the way, and suddenly we have to spend the rest of our lives together?”.

Fleur rolled her eyes. ”Are you not listening?” but Hermione just crossed her arms over her chest, furrowing her brow, and leaned on the desk behind her, annoyed by the fact that this girl was questioning her comprehension capabilities. She was starting to feel more and more offended.

Hermione stopped her train of thoughts from going too far, feeling the whole situation bizarre, like a crazy dream. She observed the older girl, letting her eyes, wander to her ethereal silver blonde hair, down to the tiny freckles on the flawless skin of her face, further down to velvety rosy lips, and a bit lower, stopping for a second (… or two) when she discovered revealed skin on her cleavage peeking through the undone buttons of her shirt. She gulped, an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach, she shook her head and chastised herself because she wasn’t going to start behaving like Ronald. She gazed back at the deepest of blue in the blonde’s eyes, her stomach flipping again when their eyes met.

“It’s not...”, Fleur scoffed, “... suddenly. And what I’m saying is precisely that we don’t have to.” She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes, and throwing her head back, exposing the tendons of her neck and Hermione decided that the bookshelf on her left was far more interesting than the ridiculously attractive girl in front of her. She began to idly wonder where all these hot and bothered sensations were coming from.

Fleur exhaled slowly. “It’s a mix between chemistry, biology and odds.” She began again, seemingly calmer, but Hermione had a feeling she was refraining from pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation. “Because I’m a part veela, the way I...” She cleared her throat “... the way we mate is a much more complex process. The magical creature within me is more sensitive to other people’s physiological traits and is constantly seeking for a unique match.”

The French looked down nervously at her hands and Hermione realized that she was having a hard time revealing such personal details of her nature to a complete stranger. She bit her bottom lip and Hermione forced herself to look away again. Merlin, what is with this girl?

“Finding the perfect match is far less common than never finding it so we are able to couple with people that aren’t our 'best suitors.'” She air quoted the last part, but it served the purpose of helping Hermione understand that Fleur appreciated the idea of having a choice.

“What happens if you do find the perfect match?” Hermione asked, feeling rather nervous.

Fleur sighed for the umpteenth time that night, this time the gesture leaving her with a more defeated than frustrated look. She walked toward Hermione to lean on the same desk as the brunette, her hands gripping the edge of the surface as they stood shoulder to shoulder. She fixed her look on her shoes. “You bond. Like you and me.”

Hermione furrowed her brow again. “But - What does that mean?” Fleur’s sudden proximity was making her feel dizzy, and confused, and nervous but also warm, and cozy and… terribly aroused. She turned away from her, but the moment the blonde’s scent hit her nostrils everything became a hundred times more overwhelming. She bolted from the desk to lean against the shelf on the opposite side. Safer, far from that exquisite aroma.

“It means we’re supposedly perfect for each other in all ways possible. Physically, intellectually, emotionally, you name it.” Fleur looked up tiredly and the last rays of sunset coming through the big windows caught her face, the dozens of tiny freckles spread across her cheeks and nose were enhanced by the warm light, turning the dark blue in her eyes to crystal. Hermione was mesmerized and she really hoped Fleur didn’t noticed how she stole her breath away when she finally turned back to her.

The blonde scoffed, shook her head, rolled her eyes and sat up ready to leave. Her face full of contempt once more. “As I said, we can just forget about this and go on with our lives. I just wanted to have the courtesy to tell you because it’s something that affects us both. You’ll long for me, you’ll feel a constant pull towards me. But it is not real, it’s just this stu-…” She adverted her eyes. “… this bond.” She started walking away, towards the corridor between bookshelves leading to the main entrance, Hermione’s chest constricting the farther the blonde became. “Now that you understand the reason behind it, it’ll be easier to ignore it until you stop feeling it at all. Have a nice life.” And she was gone.

* * *

**SUMMER 1995**

Months later, Hermione was pinned against the wall of an empty classroom, her breaths coming out in heavy pants as sweat dripped down her face. It was the beginning of summer and the heat was unbearable.

Viktor Krum was holding her up with strong arms, her legs wrapped around his waist, as he was thrusting into her. She had her arms around his neck, his head nuzzling her with his lips sucking at her pulse point. She was sure this time they were going to get caught, but Viktor insisted, and Hermione had to just keep trying.

It wasn’t like the sex wasn’t good, it really was. He was charming, he never did anything she didn’t allow and was equally determined to achieve her orgasm as much as his. The problem was really in her mind... just in her mind.

“You drive me crazy, Herm-own-ninny” he whispered in her ear and she smiled. All those girls falling at his feet and still he would only look at her, he made her feel very... flattered and grateful and it was endearing how he always gazed at her with those puppy honey eyes, and Hermione wished, she just yearned she could feel the same for him.

After the second task it was clear they were together, and things just developed faster on. He would follow her everywhere, wooing her in the most chivalrous ways, not caring about people seeing how much he was into her. The sex picked up too and he would endeavor to find her every night (or day), different places to worship her body the way he always said she deserved. Sometimes it was a risky broom closet next to the staff room, other times on a blanket behind Hagrid’s hut when he wasn’t around (mostly), empty classrooms, darky halls, all over and over again.

Not everything was carnal, though, he would also sit next to her in the library, keeping her company as she studied or had deep conversations with her about their interests, encouraging her to tell him her dreams and passions.

He truly was the perfect boy and Hermione couldn’t help but think that in another life she would have surrendered to him in a heartbeat. Her heart stolen at 15 by the same man she would happily marry years later... but instead, she was bonded to a girl who would do everything in her power to avoid her.

Hermione pursed her lips and furrowed her brow. If she could only stop seeing her every time she closed her eyes, or every time Viktor kissed her or touched her. It was so infuriating and unfair. She was so annoyed with herself by how little dignity she had. Fleur stated clearly that she didn’t want anything to do with her, she would rather fuck stupid Pansy Parkinson than have a conversation with Hermione, her actual mate. That was enough, Hermione couldn’t stand this anymore.

Viktor was drenched in sweat too, his boyish, handsome features conveying his pleasurable state and if it wasn’t for Hermione’s worried face (unnoticed by him) the scene would have been extremely erotic.

She brushed her fingertips down his bare back and pulled him impossibly closer, knowing this would make him quicken his pace and fuck her harder. He complied, grunting as the force of his thrusts were shaking her each time so she had to steady herself with a good grip on his shoulders. Hermione looked up to the ceiling, struggling to keep her eyes open, focused on feeling him and only him… but her mind was faltering, silky blonde hair and velvet lips starting to flash behind her eyelids.

He moaned loudly and grunted right into her ear. Thinking it back on it, maybe that’s why both failed to hear the door opening. It wasn’t until someone cleared her throat awkwardly that Hermione turned to the door, eyes opened wide and cheeks flushing a bright shade of red. Viktor stilled his movements.

“Sorry to interrupt...” Fleur was standing there, across the room, looking everywhere but them. “Uhm...Viktor? Karkaroff is desperately looking for you. He’s at the champions’ chamber. He’s threatened to start hexing students if you don’t show up soon.”

Viktor looked back at her over his shoulder, gave a sigh of relief and chuckled. “Coming, Fleur. Thanks”. He faced Hermione again and placed her gently back on the floor, he tucked himself in quickly, buttoning his pants and belt. He rushed to pick up their clothes discarded on the floor, handing Hermione her panties before kissing her cheek and whispering “See you later, dear.” He pulled his shirt on as he slipped through the door.

They were alone for the first time since Fleur told her about the bonding and Hermione couldn’t decide if she should be feeling deeply embarrassed by the situation or furious because, how dared Fleur? How dare she ruin her love life just like this? How dare she get her into all this mess and then just leave as if nothing happened? How dare she ignore her? How dare she keep up with her life leaving Hermione with a heart so broken she’d think she’d never recover?

She adjusted her skirt and started buttoning her blouse back up after pushing her underwear inside the pocket of her cardigan. She felt Fleur’s eyes staring at her, following her fingers as they hurriedly did their work and Hermione could only do so much to contain the rage boiling inside her, hating herself once more because she could feel her eyes starting to burn.

She fixed herself up faster, feeling all the time how those deep blue eyes followed her every movement.

Deeply affected by the scrutinizing eyes on her, she couldn’t help it any longer. She had to have some kind of release or else she would implode, so she snapped at the blonde beauty. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” Her tone was harsh and bitter. Hermione met Fleur's eyes and the emotions in there caught her off guard. Anger, incredulity, disgust, hurt and... jealousy?

Hermione finished her blouse and placed her cardigan over her arm. She was ready to leave, but Fleur was leaning against the door, blocking her only exit, looking mad and fierce and hurt and, and, and... breathtakingly beautiful.

Fleur arched a perfect blonde eyebrow. “My, my... you really showed me, huh?”

“I showed you?” Hermione spat out exasperated. “You’re just so full of yourself, aren’t you?” She walked towards her, letting her cardigan drop to the floor, her arms rigid against her sides, hands in tight fists. “You were the one that came to me with all this bonding nonsense. I am the one who should be mad.” Her voice raising intimidatingly, and she almost didn’t notice Fleur charming the door locked. “You were the one that walked away after telling me... oh no, not telling me, commanding me to forget about this and have a nice life.”

She laughed sarcastically stopping a few feet away from Fleur, she needed the distance to keep her mind clear and be able to tell all the things she had been wanting to tell to this stupidly gorgeous woman before her, since that fateful night. “You are the one fucking half the school! You think I don’t know about it? You think I don’t hear what the girls say about you?” Her rage reaching unsuspected levels. “How do you think I feel hearing them say how skilled you’re with your tongue? How do you think it makes me feel hearing that you’re the best fuck they have ever had?” She couldn’t help it, tears were streaming down, she could feel her cheeks so warm she knew her blush was only getting worse. “How do you think it makes me feel to know that you can’t keep your dick in your pants and that you’d rather do literally everyone else but me?”.

Fleur faltered for the slightest second before composing again. “You and I are nothing. I owe nothing to you. I won’t let this nonsensical ancient magic tell me what to do.” She stepped closer to Hermione and automatically looked away and curled her lip in disgust. “Merlín, you reek! He’s all over you,” she pressed the back of her hand to her nose and angled her face further away. “I don’t understand your attitude when this clearly, hasn’t been an issue to you at all. You’re having the time of your life.” Fleur gestured to the corner where she had found her and Viktor.

Hermione noticed the heavier than usual accent in her voice, more h’s missing here and there with an occasional z slipping. She knew Fleur wasn’t as composed as she was trying to seem, and this revelation made her stomach leap.

“The time of my life!?” She asked incredulously. The nerve of this woman who had been haunting her for months, appearing around every corner. “You think I’ve been enjoying myself all this time? You think I rejoice in the fact that I just can’t feel anything with my boyfriend?” Without realizing it she walked the few steps between she and Fleur, cornering her with the blonde’s back against the door, Fleur’s hand dropped by her side, with Hermione pushing forward she had no choice but to look back at her.

“I’m so confused. I don’t know where all these… feelings for you came.” Hermione pressed her forehead against Fleur’s, her eyes closing. The rage, the hurt, the sadness, all the feelings dulling now that she had the blonde near her. “You think I’m happy when he’s kissing me, and the only thing I wish for is your lips to be the ones brushing against mine?” The tips of their noses were touching, and Hermione would’ve sworn she was in heaven breathing Fleur’s mouth-watering scent.

“You think I’m happy yearning for you every night on my bed?” Hermione’s voice was barely a whisper.

Fleur growled deeply in her throat and snapped her eyes opened. In a sudden move and proving surprising strength, she swiftly wrapped one of her arms around Hermione’s waist and hoisted her up. The brunette gave a surprised whimper, her legs wrapping automatically around the blonde as her arms circled her long, slender neck. She carried them forward to the last row of desks, settling Hermione down on the wood surface, one of her hands going the back of the other girl’s neck to bring their foreheads back together. Hermione was panting, her heart beating wildly against her ribcage.

“I can’t stand you smelling of him. I can’t...” Fleur trailed off, she tilted the younger witch’s head back to fully expose her neck, Hermione panicked a little because she knew Viktor had been marking her earlier and surely there would be some bruises on her skin. Fleur found them, her nostrils flaring and her eyes turning almost dark before closing them and leaning down. She possessively licked each spot marked on Hermione’s skin.

Hermione purred, delighted in their closeness, already lost in Fleur’s tongue and scent. She arched her back, pushing her torso against Fleur’s. “Touch me...” she breathed, her body aching to feel Fleur’s hands, she wrapped her legs higher around the older witch and pulled her closer, Hermione’s bare core brushing against Fleur’s trousers, the bulge of the champion’s erection pressing against her and making her terribly, deliciously wet.

“… own me,” Hermione begged simple words and yet they carried so much power. Fleur ripped her shirt open, buttons flying all over the classroom. She dove to Hermione’s chest, pushing up her bra and taking one of her hard nipples into her mouth. Hermione moaned loudly, so dizzy, so drunk on Fleur.

“Why are you making this so difficult? Why couldn’t you just stay away? Why did it have to be you?” Fleur murmured between bites and kisses. Hermione groaned, pushed Fleur away just enough to be able to reach between her legs and start unbuttoning her pants as her mouth found the divine skin on Fleur’s neck.

“Shut up, shut up… just shut up.” Her hand slipped down Fleur’s briefs, grabbing her hard member, stroking all the length up and own. Fleur growled again, she caught her wrist in a swift move and stepped away from Hermione. The Gryffindor opened her mouth to protest but she was being dragged off the desk, her legs trembling the moment her feet made contact with the floor. Fleur grabbed her waist and made her turn around. Realization caught into Hermione, and before she knew it she felt the tip of Fleur’s dick pressing on her entrance as the blonde’s hand pushed her down on the desk, her naked chest gracing the surface.

Hermione barely had time to grab onto something before Fleur entered her with a sharp thrust. Both screaming in pleasure at the sensation, Hermione already on the verge of orgasm. Fleur fill her so perfectly, she felt so warm, so hard, so far within her, her inner walls already clinging to it, wanting to keep it in as much as possible.

Fleur started pumping into her and Hermione lost everything. Fleur's hands on her hips, the friction, how her dick would touch that spot inside her that made her toes curl, she never knew this kind of pleasure before. Viktor who?

The noises coming out of Fleur’s mouth were music to Hermione’s ears. She had never been so aroused in her life; she could practically feel her wetness dripping down her legs. She started pushing her hips back to meet Fleur’s thrusts.

Hermione pushed her torso up with the help of her arms, her back arching as her head came to rest on Fleur’s shoulder, her eyes half-opened searching for the blonde’s. Fleur moaned at the change of positions and wrapped her arms around Hermione’s waist pulling her impossibly closer, her hips keeping up the pace, pushing in and out of the tiny brunette.

“More… give me more.” Hermione whimpered; her gaze fixed on the blonde’s mouth. One of Fleur’s hands reached up to catch one of Hermione’s breast, squeezing, massaging, alternating between pinching her nipple. Hermione closed her eyes, unable to keep them opened any more, feeling so close to falling off the edge. “Honey… please.” She clearly wasn’t thinking anymore.

“… fuck.” Fleur groaned, her free hand going down between Hermione’s legs, nimbly finding her clit, and rubbing circles. Her whole body basically carrying Hermione as her legs buckled with Fleur’s ministrations. The blonde quickened the pace of her hips and sunk her teeth on Hermione’s shoulder.

Hermione came undone. It was all, it was everything… so deliciously overwhelming. Her walls clenched tight around Fleur’s member, she felt rather than heard the blonde grunt against her shoulder as she gave one more final thrust and stilled her hips deep inside Hermione. Her orgasm spilling so warm, so perfect within the brunette.

They stayed liked that for a couple of seconds before Fleur gently pulled out. Making sure Hermione was balanced on her feet, she stepped away and turned around, already cleaning and fixing herself up.

Hermione stood there a few moments longer, her mind catching up with everything that had happened. She fixed her skirt and adjusted her bra, she was going to start buttoning her blouse, for the second time this day, in this place, when she realized the garment was ruined; She could spot some buttons on the floor.

She looked up to Fleur to say something but stopped when she realized the blonde was already looking perfect and pristine as always, standing right in front of her with her arm stretched offering a baby blue jacket with the Beauxbatons coat of arms on the front... but her eyes were fixed on a spot behind Hermione.

The brunette didn’t say anything in the end. She took the cardigan from Fleur’s hands and slipped it on. Fleur allowed her eyes to look at her for a second, then turned around, waved her wand at the door, and walked out of the room without saying a single word to Hermione.

The school year ended, and Hermione barely saw Fleur again, let alone spoke to her. The only reminder of her encounter was the baby blue jacket, with the Beauxbatons coat of arms safely hidden in Hermione’s trunk.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm terribly sorry for the belated update. I have good and bad news. The good news is we're halfway there meaning this is going to be a 4 chapters story! The bad news is that chapter 3 is not finished yet. I really hope to have it done within the next 2 weeks tops. 
> 
> Last but not least thank you to Kamaro0917 for helping me with this chapter. 
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy!

**SUMMER 1996**

More than a year passed before Hermione saw Fleur again. A year that forced her to grow up too quickly, leaving her childhood behind and thrusting her into adulthood whether she was ready or not. A year that showed her that a real war was just around the corner, that they had more enemies than they expected, that Harry was destined for enormous challenges, and that she was going to be there all the way to help him until the very end. A year that highlighted how her life and all of her loved ones’ is on a tightrope; a year that presented her the grief of losing someone, not once but twice. 

These lessons came along with physical changes: she grew an inch or so, her waist and hips were more defined, her breasts fuller, she also learnt a couple of cosmetic spells and her hair was tamer, and her frontal teeth smaller. Yes, Hermione had changed so much since she last saw Fleur and yet the only thing that remained the same were her feelings for the blonde beauty. 

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t understand them, and that was just another thing that piled up to the reasons why she was feeling so frustrated, so mad, so desperate and tired. She had spent her whole fifth year in Hogwarts’ library, half the time helping Harry with DA’s classes and the other half researching Veela customs, culture, origins, reading anything and everything that would help her understand this bond, this ache for Fleur. 

In her worst days she’d desperately look for ways to get rid of it, because the only days that could compare to when Harry came back with Cedric’s body, or the day they all fought in the ministry and lost Sirius, were the days that Fleur’s absence became unbearable. She would find herself incessantly crying on her bed or locked in a stall in the girl's bathroom, she would wake up in the middle of the night screaming drenched in sweat and with no other option but to take the Beauxbatons jacket out of her trunk and bury her nose in it, hoping to find the ghosts of Fleur’s scent. 

It was so exhausting; for the first time Hermione understood the phrase ‘ignorance is bliss.’ 

What hurt her the most and would trigger one of those terrible episodes, was when she heard something about the Veela. The last bit of news Hermione received was from one of Ron’s letters, casually mentioning that Fleur was back in London, had landed a job in Gringotts and was seemingly close friends with none other than his brother, William. That small piece of information caused a whole week of pure anxiety and panic attacks, her poor, clueless parents believed it was academic stress due to the O.W.L.s’ grades her daughter had yet to receive. It got so bad that they seriously considered not letting her back at Hogwarts and Hermione had to force herself out of her bed the day after. 

The start of their 6th year was 3 weeks away and she was currently staying at the Weasley’s, waiting for the days to pass and for Harry to arrive. It was nice to have a change - she would cry next to a sleeping Ginny instead of alone in her own room at night -, no but really, it was refreshing to be around other witches and wizards. Molly always made her feel so welcome and she had always found The Burrow so calm and peaceful. 

Until now. 

Hermione was looking at Fleur. She rubbed her eyes, she blinked many times, she even pinched herself on the arm but no, the woman was really standing there politely smiling at everyone... everyone but her. 

“Fleur, what a great pleasure to finally meet you. Bill has been telling us a lot about you.” Molly rushed to greet her and Bill at the door, shaking Fleur’s hand before taking their coats and demonstrating outstanding magic skills by sending them to the wardrobe without even a wand. Hermione would’ve been deeply impressed if she wasn’t trying so hard not to faint, or scream, or run away. 

“Madame Weasley, the pleasure is truly mine. Bill talks a lot about all of you, too.” She smiled again and Hermione’s breath was aggressively stolen from her lungs. 

“I believe introductions with these are unnecessary but in case you don’t remember them, this is my brother Ronald, my sister Ginevra and our family friend, Hermione Granger.” Bill pointed at each of them. 

“Of course, I remember them. This one saved my little sister’s life.” Fleur stepped closer to Ron and leant down to kiss both of his cheeks, if the boy was already the color of his hair, after the kisses he turned a dark shade of purple. Next one was Ginny who went for a handshake before Fleur could think of kissing her too, which caused the blonde to wholeheartedly laugh and consequently, for Hermione’s knees to give in.

Hermione tripped over her own feet and she reached for the nearest counter, clumsily tipping over some of the pictures on the surface, Ron was by her side in a blink of an eye, grabbing her waist to support her. “’Mione, are you ok? What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, just... I got a bit dizzy. Probably something I ate.” Hermione steadied herself and gently pushed Ron away, squeezing his hand and smiling reassuringly at him. “Perhaps I just need to rest. It’s a bit late.”

Molly eyed her suspiciously but let it go and said, “Ok, girls and Ron, Fleur’s staying for the remaining of your summer break. She’ll be sleeping with both of you, Hermione and Ginny, in Ginny’s room, and as soon as Harry is here he’ll be with you Ronald... Oh, dear soon we will have a full house again and we don’t have enough eggs and milk and…-” She continued rambling about breakfast dishes and brunch, planning meals for the next few days, distractedly picking up and charming the broken photo frames fixed, but Hermione stopped listening not believing her luck, this couldn’t be happening, god this couldn’t be happening. 

“No!” Hermione screamed and everyone turned to look at her. “I mean, I’ve changed my mind I need fresh air.” She bolted to the door, her hand already on the handle. 

“I’ll come with you.” Ron went after her but before he could reach her, Hermione stopped him “No, Ron. It's not necessary. Truly. It’ll just take a minute. I’ll be back soon.” She reassured him once again with a kind smile. 

She turned around and walked out of the house, closing the door behind her. The last thing she heard was Ginny asking her mother if she was sure about Fleur staying in her tiny little room, Ron suggesting for Hermione to move to his, and Molly screaming “Absolutely not!” 

Outside the sky was peppered with stars, the cool night breeze ruffling the high grass surrounding The Burrow. Hermione wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes, inhaling deeply the countryside’s scent. She quickly walked to the edge of The Weasley’s property and sat down on the wooden bench there. 

The first thing that came to her mind was Ron and how obvious he was about his newly acquired, romantic feelings for her and how potentially problematic this was. They were friends, almost siblings, Jesus, she didn’t need this, she didn’t want to hurt him. How was she gonna explain to him that she was basically out of the dating game, being destined to spend the rest of her life alone, crying her heart out for an unrequited love? A disregarded bond. 

And speaking of the devil, of all the girls in Gringotts that Bill could befriend, why did he choose the responsible for her nightmares? And why would he bring her to his home? Why did Molly say he talked a lot about her? Unless... could it be possible that they were dating? Hermione’s stomach turned and she almost threw up on the spot. 

They couldn’t possibly be dating. Fleur’s anatomy is... well not within William’s taste as far as she knew. But then again... what was the blonde doing here? 

Hermione sighed, feeling like screaming to the sky. She laid down on the bench, staring at the beauty of the stars and wondering if the cosmos had something against her. Before she knew it, she was fast asleep. 

* * *

Hermione woke up at the noise of someone clearing her throat behind her, she clumsily sat up, rubbing the sleep off her eyes. She could tell she slept way more than she suspected because the air was uncomfortably cold against her skin, silence engulfing her and her companion. She glanced up at The Burrow finding all the lights out, a shapeless silhouette against the dark of the night. 

“Mrs. Weasley sent me for you.” Hermione couldn’t help but smile, she would recognize that voice anywhere.

“HARRY!” She stood up and threw herself to the arms of his best friend. He caught her and hugged her tightly. 

“When did you arrive?” She pulled back, keeping her arms around him, she kissed him on the cheek and reached up to comb his hair out of his forehead afterwards. 

“I just got here. Dumbledore brought me.” Harry looked at her and smiled. “It’s so good to see you, Hermione.” He hugged her again. “Shall we?” he said as he offered her arm to her. 

Both of them walked back to The Burrow as Harry told her all about his day, from Dumbledore picking him up at Privet Drive to their visit to Horace Slughorn. They were still laughing at the Dursleys getting hit on the head by Dumbledore’s enchanted glasses when they entered the coziness of the house, silence welcomed them; everyone was already up in their rooms. Hermione glanced at the clock on the wall and read half past midnight. 

They climbed the stairs and bid goodnight, as Harry went up one more flight to Ron’s bedroom. She stared at Ginny’s door for a few seconds before sighing deeply and pushing it open. Ready to face her demons. 

A huge wave or relief washed over her when she only found Ginny peacefully sleeping. She changed her clothes and got into her bed. She was so tired she fell asleep almost immediately. 

That night she dreamed she was hanging off a cliff with Fleur holding her arm keeping her from falling off. She was telling something to Hermione, but she couldn’t understand, it was like she was submerged in water, at the last minute she smiled and the words she spoke next Hermione could understand “... come to me.” And Fleur let go of her hand making her fall. 

Next morning, she didn’t see Fleur, nor the next one or the one after that. In fact, she didn’t see her again for the whole week. She learned she indeed was staying over, sleeping at Fred and George’s old bedroom with Bill, but that they recently got a special assignment at Gringotts that would require them to be early at work and to stay until really late. Hermione was grateful for this turn of events and she could almost forget about Fleur for the rest of her holidays. 

* * *

The last night before their return to Hogwarts Hermione woke up in the middle of night panting and drenched in sweat. She rubbed her eyes trying to remember what she was dreaming but everything was blurry. She sat up, slowly coming to her senses, her heart was beating wildly. She sighed and closed her eyes pressing her palms against her eyelids. Think. Think. Think. What was the dream?

Nothing. 

She huffed annoyed and dropped her head, her neck, unusually tense, protesting. She groaned and brought her hand up to massage one of the tendons on the side. She kneaded her flesh for a couple of minutes before giving up and getting up from bed. 

She tip-toed to the door, feeling extremely uncomfortable with her neck sore, her pajamas sticky with sweat and her mouth dry as cotton. 

The brunette moved slowly towards the kitchen, almost drowsily, hoping that a fresh glass of water would help her clean the fog lingering in her mind. The dream had left her confused, feeling clumsy as if part of her brain was still stuck in there, but also feeling awfully hot. She wished she could remember what it was about. She turned the corner, entered the kitchen, and almost screamed.

There in all her ethereal glory was Fleur Delacour, sitting at the table. Her hands nursing what Hermione assumed was a hot cup of tea, the opened curtains on the window allowing the moonlight to shine on her tired but nonetheless stunning features. She looked up when she heard Hermione and the moment their eyes met, the dream came to Hermione like a waterfall.

_She was completely naked, needy whimpers were escaping her mouth, long hands holding her hips, and goosebumps erupting along her whole body. She was again feeling the most exhilarating pleasure she had only known once, drunk in the scent she would desperately search in a baby blue jacket. The lips, the eyes, the silky blonde hair… the strong aroma of sex._

Fuck, fuck! She realized she was aroused, unbearably so.

Hermione shook her head trying to focus on reality. “What are you doing here, Fleur? You gave me a fright.”

Fleur laughed sarcastically and ran a hand through her long hair, her piercing blue eyes assessing Hermione. “Why is that every time we meet, you’re fucking a different boy, hmm?” 

“Jesus Christ,'' The brunette blushed furiously and rolled her eyes, overwhelmed and mad by the blonde’s bluntness. She turned away, already dismissing the conversation, quickly grabbing a glass from the cabinet and crossing the kitchen to the sink. She opened the tap to fill the glass, took a big gulp and sighed, relishing in the coolness of the water, her eyes looking out the window at the endless dark night. 

She really loved The Burrow and the landscape that it was at all seasons. For a couple of minutes she got so lost in the view that almost forgot about the girl sitting behind her, until the noise of the chair scratching the floor as Fleur pushed it back to stand up, brought her back. 

Hermione didn’t move an inch, not even when she felt the other witch coming towards her. 

Fleur stopped right behind her and Hermione could feel her breathing on her neck. The blonde sneaked her arms through the gaps between her arms and hips, her hands grazing the skin on Hermione’s waist where her tank top had raised and she involuntarily gasped. Fleur gripped the edges of the counter, effectively trapping her between her arms. 

“You have no right…” Hermione whispered as tears started pooling in the corner of her eyes, feeling immensely overwhelmed by the sudden and unexpected proximity. It was all too much, a lot was happening and Hermione wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready for the strong feelings the blonde always evoked in her.

Sure, her stomach was flipping with excitement, her nose delighted by the other woman’s scent, the skin on the back of her neck arising with every exhalation of Fleur’s breath, but there was also anger, and disappointment, and pain, and the feeling of abandonment.

“You don’t want me.” A sob broke and Hermione hated herself for crying in front of the French. She inhaled deeply to contain all the emotion and through the window, she fixed her eyes on the moon shining up in the starred sky, the soft late-summer breeze rumpling the trees, the leaves shaking, creating a hypnotizing cacophony.

“Why won’t you respond to my letters? How selfish do you have to be to don’t care about leaving me in the dark with this bonding matter? Do you know there are only five published books about Veelas? I’ve read them all at least three times and none of them mention further details about mates…” Hermione fully broke down, her words coming out between whimpers, she covered her mouth with her hand to muffle the noise, wishing none of the people upstairs had woken up.

The younger woman felt Fleur move her arm and from the corner of her eye, saw her casting a silencing spell in the room with her wand, she returned to grip the counter on her hip’s side, and then she felt the French’s forehead coming to rest on the back of her head. Hermione couldn’t hold it any longer and cried her heart out. 

Minutes passed, maybe hours, Hermione wasn’t sure how many. She eventually calmed down and after wiping her nose and eyes with the back of her hand, she released a liberating sigh. 

“You’re always reproaching me being with other people, doing what you told me, by the way,” Her voice was raw from crying. “… but how many girls exactly have you taken to your bed since we were together, huh?” She finished with a scoff.

The older woman pulled her head back and Hermione felt her stiffen.

“Why are you here? What is this all about? You say you don’t want me, but you feel you have the right to criticize who I sleep with. You come, and take me, and have your way with me just to go back to completely ignore me afterward. You don’t want me to be with someone else, but you won’t have me either. Why won’t you let me go? What do you want from me?” She turned around in Fleur’s arms to face her, she did it so quickly their noses bumped, and Fleur caught her waist to still her movements, surprised by the suddenness of them.

The brunette was feeling terribly confused, her mind and pride wanted Fleur far away, out of her life. Constantly reminding her how since the part-veela acknowledged their bond all she had done was reject her. She was so hurt, so ashamed, she wanted to keep the few dignity she still had. 

But her body was another story; it was humming with joy, feeling the blonde closeness. Her skin felt on fire, heat radiating from where the French’s hands were holding her at the waist, and Fleur’s scent that goddamned distinctive scent was making her mouth water. 

Hermione became aware of their position and looked up, the slight height difference putting her at eye level with the French woman’s mouth. Billions of butterflies exploded in her stomach and she forced her eyes further up to the other woman’s deep blue ones. She wasn’t sure if it was a better option because Fleur was looking at her so intensely, so intimidatingly, Hermione could barely hold her gaze. 

“You’re right. I don’t want you…” Fleur spoke, and Hermione could swear she heard hatred in her words, the taller woman angled her face, brushing their noses. The brunette immediately closed her eyes. 

“… and yet being away from you drives me completely mad.” The French whispered softly, her tone changing completely, like a plea. Hermione unconsciously licked her lips, the remaining tears tasting salty in her mouth. Her chest was heaving with labored breaths, each inhalation making her rub against Fleur. 

“I don’t want you and yet I can’t stop thinking about you every single day.” The heavy accent and the fierceness behind the blonde’s words sending shivers through the younger woman’s body. 

“I don’t want you and yet my hands burn to touch you again.” Hermione felt Fleur moving even closer, so close that when she spoke again the brunette could feel her lips against her own. 

“I don’t want you and yet I can’t fuck anyone else without you haunting my mind. Wishing it was you squirming and screaming beneath me.” Fleur tightened her hold on Hermione’s waist, her hands slipping underneath the fabric of her tank top.

“God.” the brunette exhaled hotly, her knees threatening to give in. She leaned back, relying completely on the counter to carry her weight. “Then let’s do this. Let’s try and be toge-,“ before she could finish her sentence, Fleur captured her lips, kissing her deliciously. Hermione’s mind went haywire, her senses completely lost in the stunning blonde. 

Fleur’s hands traveled down her body, caressing to the back of her thighs and in a quick and precise movement she lifted her on the counter, Hermione’s legs wrapping around her hips, her arms doing the same around her neck and she was pulling the blonde towards her, wanting… no, needing the other girl desperately closer. 

The kiss was blazing, fervent. Fleur would demand and Hermione would gladly comply. The blonde had her exactly where she wanted her, her tongue, her teeth, her lips would tease her, bite her, lick her, suck her, and Hermione would give and give and give.

Fleur pulled back and the Gryffindor would be ashamed days later at the whimper that erupted from her throat. “No, no… come here, come-.”

“Shh… don’t speak. I don’t wanna hear you.” The French pressed one hand against her mouth as the other one grabbed the hem of her pajama shorts and pulled them down. The brunette lifted her ass from the counter and Fleur successfully dragged the garment down and off her legs, she dropped them on the floor and turned to Hermione, the ocean in her eyes wild and predatory.

Making sure Hermione was looking back she brought two fingers of her free hand to her mouth, she moistened them with her saliva and took them down between the brunette’s legs. The moment she pushed her underwear aside and made contact with Hermione’s dripping folds, the younger woman’s eyes rolled back on her head and she moaned against Fleur’s palm. 

She almost laughed because the saliva wasn’t necessary at all, as she could feel how incredibly wet she was; the blonde’s fingers gliding easily against her overheated flesh. She felt the tips of the digits nimbly find her clit and they started rubbing it firmly; perfect circles, perfect pressure.

Hermione was a whimpering mess, her hips were bucking uncontrollably as the pleasure started to consume her. It was embarrassing how close she was to orgasm; she could feel it building up in her lower stomach.

The hand covering her mouth and silencing her moans and groans was becoming annoying, frustrating, as she needed more air with each rub on her clit. She groaned and caught Fleur’s hand between her teeth and bit hard. The blonde’s eyes widened in surprise and she pulled back her hand hissing in pain. She was about to say something, but Hermione quickly grabbed the collar of her button-up shirt and pulled her into a searing kiss.

Fleur growled into her mouth and with no previous warning, she entered Hermione with two fingers. The air left the brunette’s lungs and she squeezed her eyes shut, as her first orgasm of the night assaulted her. She could feel her walls clench around the French’s fingers, and she rode the waves of heavenly pleasure with her hips jerking and her hands holding for dear life onto Fleur’s shoulders.

The Gryffindor sighed contentedly after the last spasm past and she realized, surprised, delighted that she was nowhere near done, and looking at Fleur’s hungry eyes she knew that the blonde wasn’t satiated either.

Hermione grabbed the hem of her tank top and pulled it over her head, leaving her naked chest on full display for the blonde. She searched for Fleur’s eyes and when she saw her blown pupils fixed on her breasts she blushed, her cheeks, her neck, and the skin on her cleavage turning an angry shade of red.

She wrapped her fingers around the wrist of the hand that was inside her and she leaned in for a kiss before whispering “Move.” To Fleur.

The older woman didn’t waste another second and kissed her back as she started fingering her. The rhythm was steady, ideal.

Fleur broke the kiss and Hermione was about to protest again when she felt her pouty lips kissing down her neck, finding and sucking on her pulse point. She whimpered for what felt like the millionth time, Fleur’s name escaping her mouth in a breathy moan.

She expected the blonde to tell her to shut up again but instead, she wrapped her unused arm around Hermione’s waist and leaned down to capture one of her nipples between her lips.

“Fuck!” Hermione arched her back, pushing her chest towards the French beauty, and she, in response, quickened the pace of her hand.

Fleur’s fingers were working her like they knew the brunette’s body by memory, the angle of each thrust, the accuracy of the tips curling and pressing on the right spots inside her. Hermione knew that she’d never find another person that would touch her as Fleur did.

The Gryffindor threw her head back, her eyes closed, her back complete leaning on Fleur’s arm as the other woman savaged her breasts. Her tongue teasing the hardened tips of her nipples, her teeth grazing them bordering between excruciating pleasure and pain. Each thrust of Fleur’s hand, each curl of her fingers, would push her further and further out of control… but she needed more, she needed more. It wasn’t enough anymore. 

She opened her eyes determined and drove the blonde back, the other woman halting her movements confused, but Hermione reached between them and cupped her groin with her hand, feeling the hard member pulsating beneath the fabric of Fleur’s dress pants. “I need you inside me.” Hermione breathed and Fleur bit her lip groaning in the back of her throat.

The brunette desperately untucked Fleur’s shirt, her hands rushing to unbutton her pants, pushing them down along with her briefs just enough to free the blonde’s hard dick. The member stood proudly, the tip already leaking some pre-cum. Hermione’s mouth watered so much she feared she’d drool.

Unable to refrain from her impulses she reached for Fleur’s dick, her hand closing around it and she pumped it once, twice, three times. She spread the pre-cum all over it loving the noises the other woman would make each time she pressed on the tip with her thumb.

The French beauty caught her wrist, she pushed her hand away and grabbed the hem of Hermione’s panties pulling them down her legs, the Gryffindor brought her knees together allowing the underwear to pass them and Fleur to take it completely off.

Hermione was now completely naked before her lover, completely bare, completely exposed… completely surrendered to this infuriating but breathtaking woman.

Fleur hooked her arms under the brunette’s knees, bringing her legs higher up, the position allowing wider access to her warm center. The younger woman aligned the blonde’s dick with her entrance and as soon as the tip was in position, Fleur entered her with a sharp, deep thrust. Both making an obscene sound at the pleasurable sensation. Another orgasm hit Hermione with the force of a thousand bricks.

Hermione reached for Fleur’s neck to pull her in for a messy, and desperate kiss as waves of pleasure rippled through her body. She moaned and whimpered against the blonde’s mouth and the other girl kissed her back with equal passion, both so hungry for each other.

The brunette adjusted her position to a straighter one, the blonde’s dick inside her, brushing her deliciously. She wrapped her legs tightly around the other woman’s hips, freeing Fleur’s hands from carrying her legs; the blonde immediately wrapping her arms around her and bringing their upper bodies flushed together.

Being on the counter and face to face with Fleur, Hermione now had a height advantage that was exploited by looking down and admiring the other witch’s face. They were so close, the Gryffindor could (gladly) count each of the freckles on her face, she could trace the delicate contour of her nose, distinguish the gold in her eyelashes and eyebrows, she could admire the different shades of blue in her eyes. She was mesmerized and her heart soared with an emotion Hermione wasn’t ready to put a name to.

“You’re so beautiful.” The words left her mouth without a second thought.

Fleur looked at her, a spark of something in her eyes. She tightened their embrace and kissed Hermione softly almost sweetly.

The brunette sighed into the kiss and Fleur’s hips started moving. She established a firm, constant, rhythm, their bodies rocking with synchrony, their mouths meeting in fierce kisses. The older woman’s nails would scratch down her back and Hermione would bite on her bottom lip. The blonde would moan sensually in her ear and Hermione would whimper her name in response. It truly was heaven on earth and Hermione wished she could engrave this moment in her mind forever.

The blonde angled her hips, her thrusts becoming stronger, going deeper within the younger woman making her purr in delight. Hermione was so close to coming undone once again but this time she felt Fleur getting closer too. She cupped the other girl's face and bringing their foreheads together she whispered “Harder” and Fleur complied, the movements of her hips becoming almost erratic.

There was something in their lovemaking that was fully enrapturing Hermione. She didn’t know if it was the scent of it (a mix of Fleur’s skin, sweat, and Hermione’s shampoo). Or the way her body would respond to a minimal stimulation from the blonde. Or the noises coming from the other woman’s mouth along with the sound of their skins smashing together with each thrust. Or the fact that this time she could see Fleur’s face and could appreciate how the pleasure was overcoming the blonde as much as herself.

But something of this, or everything, was pushing her to the edge at the speed of light. The brunette knew that this time it was going to be astounding, overwhelming, absolutely amazing, she could feel it building up, coiling in her navel. She was feeling exhilarated, almost ecstatic. Serotonin and adrenaline pumping in her veins like a rush coming from drugs. She turned to Fleur and she must’ve called her name because the French met her eyes immediately and she just couldn’t help the words coming from her mouth “I’m yours, Fleur. I’m so yours, honey.”

Fleur’s eyes widened, a mix of emotions flashing before her eyes before a scowl appeared on her features. She almost lost the pace of her fucking but she recovered quickly, she unwrapped her arms from the brunette, her hands coming to grip the edges of the counter once more, her hips drawing sharp impetus on Hermione, so hard that the whole furniture they were on was rattling. 

They both couldn’t resist it any longer and with perfect timing, they came undone at the same time.

Fleur caught Hermione’s chin with her hand, “I asked you to shut up.” And pull her in for a bruising kiss, her teeth biting the younger woman’s lip, opening a gash, and spilling some blood. The blonde’s hips still pumping into her, pouring her hot climax inside Hermione. 

The brunette, unable to kiss back, collapsed in pleasure against her. Her forehead resting on the other witch’s shoulder with her body shaking uncontrollably from the force of the biggest orgasm she had ever had. 

Silence fell upon them as they recovered, both panting trying to catch their breaths. Fleur pulled out and Hermione complained at the uncomfortable sensation, feeling her body too sensitive. 

Fleur who had kept her clothes on was already fixing herself up, pulling up her pants, tucking her shirt back in, and running a hand through her flawless hair.

Hermione looked at herself, completely naked, her body marked all over, her clothes discarded on the floor. She tasted iron in her mouth, she touched her burning lip softly with her fingertips, the digits coming up with smeared blood. “This was uncalled for, I don’t appreciate-“.

“This can’t happen again,” The blonde interrupted her. “We can’t keep making this mistake.” The blonde stepped away from her and walked back to the kitchen table, her arms crossed on her chest, her eyes fixed on her shoes.

“What?” Hermione couldn’t believe it. She hopped down the counter and picked up her shorts and tank top, pulling them on quickly, suddenly feeling too naked, too exposed. “What are you talking about?” She walked towards Fleur.

The blonde put her palm out, wordlessly asking for Hermione to not come any closer, she sighed tiredly and pinch the bridge of her nose. “I’ve already told you. I want to have a choice. This is not real; you and I are not real. What you feel is nothing but this bond, this old magic that creates an illusion for both of us.”

Hermione stubbornly walked into the blonde’s personal space and whispered, “Something happens when we’re together, something so strong and so deep that it can’t be an illusion, it can’t not be real. I feel it and I know that you feel it too.” She lifted Fleur’s chin with her finger, but the other woman averted her eyes, refusing to look at her. “You said it before, that you can’t stay away from me, that you can’t stop thinking about me and I saw it in your eyes when you were making love to me. Were you lying then? Did I misunderstand? Look me in the eye and tell me that I’m wrong, tell me you don’t feel anything.”

Hermione searched in the blonde’s face and saw her deliberating in her mind, she could almost see the engines in her brain working, assessing her options. She waited for what felt like an eternity and when Fleur turned to finally look at her she read the answer in her eyes before the blonde spoke.

“I… lied. I don’t feel anything when I’m with you. I… just said those things because I felt horny and wanted to fuck someone.” She stopped as if hesitating for a moment, but she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, and finally said “I don’t want you, Hermione Granger.”

The brunette struck Fleur across the face with a ferocious slap. “You, bloody idiot. You don’t realize you don’t only hurt me, but you hurt yourself too.” Fleur cupped her cheek with her hand astonished, her eyes blackened with rage, but Hermione just point a finger to her face and said, “Don’t you ever come near me again.”

Fleur looked her up and down, her eyes wild, and Hermione thought for a second that she was going to pounce upon her but she just pushed her out of the way as she stormed out of the house through the kitchen door, several seconds later the distinctive cracking sound of apparition echoed in the distance.

Hermione dropped to the floor crying disconsolately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading. I'd love to hear what do you think.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I'd love to hear what you think.


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